Matchmaker
by saarazaara
Summary: Mostly HouseWilson friendship, somewhat fluffy, tangential refs to ChF. This is an old story that I seriously reedited etc. & I think it's much better now. Hope you enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Matchmaker (Pt I)  
Disclaimers: Don't own 'em, never will (House would be with me if I did & Chase would be the pool boy); don't own Fiddler either.  
Rating: PG-13 (language on the safe side, 'cos House can be a snot)  
Pairing: Mostly House - Wilson friendship, refs to Foreman/Chase  
Spoilers: Few refs to Euphoria, Hunting & House v. God.  
A/N: This was supposed to be my first attempt to write Chase. It's a piece where I wanted to set the scene between Chase & Foreman before the Cameron blow up in Realization. Couldn't do it, despaired of getting them to talk (Chase did what he always does, clammed up, then Foreman got snotty), what kept coming out was a fluffy piece of House & Wilson snark commentary on the situation instead, at which point I just gave up and went with the flow. _And since when do I do fluffy!_

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**Matchmaker (Pt I)**

It had been an unusual morning. It had started off normally enough - House had ambled in late to find his Fellows occupied with their usual pursuits - Cameron typing on her laptop, Chase contemplating the newspaper crossword and the disintegrating end of his chewed pencil, and Foreman pouring himself more coffee. The unusual event was that he was being trailed by a delivery guy lugging a vase containing a couple of dozen deep yellow roses.

"Diagnostics Office?"

"Yes," Cameron immediately walked over to the delivery guy, her face bending to sniff the flowers. "They're beautiful," she had smiled. "Where do I sign for them?"

The delivery man looked dubiously at her badge.

"Umm, sorry, Dr. Cameron, they're for a Dr. Chase."

"My, my, you put out last night, Ms. Chase?" House grabbed the card before Chase could reach it and ripped the small envelope open. "Hmm, Happy Anniversary, that's it?" He tossed the card back to Chase, who was occupied signing for the flowers, while the delivery man placed the vase on the conference table before leaving. "More importantly, Cameron, what did you do to think they were for you?" House leered at her.

"That's a singularly unattractive expression, House, and nothing. It's unusual to send a man flowers like that. I made a reasonable assumption they might be for me. You're not seeing anyone, are you, Chase?"

"Sorry, what's that?" Chase was staring at the flowers, a bemused look on his face.

"I'm disappointed in you, Cameron. I thought you were trained to observe and draw inferences. The card said "Happy Anniversary" - the only logical conclusion is that our darling daughter is in fact seeing someone and that someone thinks it's serious."

"Lay off, House." Foreman was grinning from ear to ear at Chase.

"Really, Chase? Who..?"

Chase lifted his head from the flowers, a small smile of genuine happiness on his face. House couldn't help but be astonished, he couldn't recall the last time he had seen Chase smile so, a smile that lit him up from inside. It was clear that Cameron was surprised too - not only by Chase's expression, but that the smile was directed at Foreman.

House groaned, and broke in across Cameron's question. "I refuse to deal with a love sick wombat or the two of you mooning at each other all day. Focus people, differential diagnosis."

"We have a patient?" This was from a suddenly serious Foreman.

"No, I'm trying to recall you to reality." He tossed his badge over to Chase. "Get rid of the flowers, Chase and then get down to the clinic. Go be me for a while, that'll cure you."


	2. Chapter 2

……and the story continues...

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**Matchmaker (Pt II)**

House chuckled as Cameron opened her mouth and attempted to say something that she apparently then thought better of. Chase had departed for the clinic, Foreman had left a few minutes later in response to a page from Neurology for a consult.

"It.. They.. ," she trailed off, for once at a loss for words.

"Yees…that makes sense." He turned his head to her, momentarily distracted from the more important task of attempting walk the dog with his new yo-yo.

She tried again. "You don't have a problem with this? Unbelievable."

The yo-yo stopped moving. "Ooh...Tell Uncle Greg why Cammy is mad."

"You think this isn't going to affect our working relationships?"

"Grow up, Cameron. They're adults - they've been discrete and it hasn't bothered anyone so far; so what if Foreman decides to make a grand romantic gesture once in while." He paused, considering. "Its kind of sweet actually - I didn't think he had it in him."

The yo-yo started moving again, but House studied her face carefully, watching her reactions to what he had just said. "You didn't know, did you?", he stated with what he was sure Cameron would consider an unreasonable amount of smugness.

"And leave them alone, Cameron. I'm sure Chase will tell you, if he hasn't already, that its none of your business." His tone was serious now, disinclined to brook any argument from her.

Cameron looked as though she was prepared to argue the issue, then subsided and stalked out.

"Wonderful," he thought. "She's going to dig in anyway." Well, that made it someone else's problem, probably Wilson's. He wondered what was enraging her more - that Chase had dared to have a relationship with anyone other than herself or that it was with Foreman, now her competitor in more ways than one. She and Foreman had reached a fragile truce after Foreman's illness, but he suspected that it wouldn't take much to set them at each other's throats again, and he wouldn't put it past either of them to try to use Chase as a pawn in that battle.

He chuckled again, at some level he couldn't blame Cameron for her discomfort. That whatever had been going on between Chase and Foreman had actually turned into a relationship had caught him off guard too. His foolish wombat had always been somewhat ambivalent about his preferences, all that repressed catholic guilt no doubt, but Foreman, Foreman everyone, including himself, had assumed was straight.

He wasn't naive enough to think that meant Foreman wouldn't ever sleep with a man, hadn't considered the possibility at some point in his life plus it was glaringly obvious to him at least that Foreman was attracted to Chase, no matter how hard he tried to hide it under the veneer of criticism and subtle put downs. The question had been how to make Foreman act on the impulse.

Was it almost a year ago, he wondered, when he and Wilson had speculated about the situation over too much whiskey at that oncology shindig Cuddy had insisted on holding at PPTH. He'd thought Chase might indulge Foreman just to let him get it out of his system, maybe because he was curious and maybe because he had nothing better to do, so in the interests of team harmony House had needled Foreman into a fit of pique which would hopefully send him rushing into Chase's arms.

Wilson had gone to town with that one.

"Team harmony, my ass." To say Wilson was indignant was an understatement. "You're playing games again, particularly with Chase. He doesn't exist for your amusement, House, no matter what you may think. And if Foreman finds out you're manipulating him into this, I'm certain he'll be happy to break your good leg for you. Besides which, I though Chase wanted Cameron."

"He does," House had grinned back at his friend. "But she wants me and I want Cuddy, funbags and all,.. and I wonder who Cuddy wants? Be ironic if it were Foreman," he'd joked.

He'd also blithely assumed that everyone would then get on with their lives as normal the next day, and he'd have ample future opportunities to tease both Foreman and Chase over their momentary lapse. Astoundingly, he'd been wrong on all counts. Well, that was why he kept young Aussie around, he supposed, he'd never quite cracked the puzzle that was Robert Chase.


	3. Chapter 3

...and the story concludes...

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**Matchmaker (Pt III)**

An hour later House strolled into Wilson's office.

"Lunch, Jimmy. Come on. You're buying." He paused. The roses were sitting on a table in Wilson's office. "What are they doing here?"

"Chase muttered something about not wanting to start your hay fever off. He'll pick them up tonight on his way out. More glowing patient reviews for the handsome young Dr. Chase apparently."

House snorted. "I wish; anniversary present from Foreman. He's better at this than you ever were with any of your wives."

"You're not serious?" When House nodded, Wilson continued. "What anniversary?"

"Don't know, don't care. More importantly, Cuddy dumped a new patient on me; I dumped it on the kids. I am now in need of sustenance." They headed towards the elevator.

"Patients aren't "its", House. What's the differential?"

"Big donor has some kind of autoimmune problem. Cuddy makes nice, Foreman's happy schmoozing, Cameron's happy running tests."

"And Chase?"

"Not so happy, covering my clinic hours."

"Of course, why did I bother ask?"

"Cameron come see you yet?"

"Yeh, was with a patient, though. Didn't talk."

"She'll be back - she's upset."

"About Foreman and Chase?" Wilson looked skeptical.

"That too, but more importantly, me actually. Priorities, Jimmy!"

"Since when have you cared about that?"

"Since I discovered she takes it out on everyone else around her, including the patient. She's worse than Stacy like that. I rely on the kids to do things I won't, like keep Cuddy happy, make nice to Brenda and so on. Not helpful if she starts acting like me." He took a bite of his Reuben. "Plus I told her to grow up."

"Surprising advice, I think, coming from you. You're not exactly the best role model." He paused, considering his friend. "What's really bothering you, House, this isn't about Cameron being pissy. Out with it."

House's smile was a little twisted, and he stopped for a moment to dry-swallow a vicodin.

"Foreman has a huge chip on his shoulder about status, money, white boys who have everything handed to them on a plate and hasn't a prayer in hell's chance of ever proving he's as good as me, let alone nicer, given that he's not particularly nice or good." He ticked the items off rapidly.

"Yes", Wilson uttered dubiously, uncertain where this was going.

"Chase's Dad screwed him over royally, he's conceivably more emotionally damaged than you and Cameron combined and that's not even adding in the contributions his mother and the Church made to messing him up."

"What's the point of all this, House, we know." Wilson thought it politic to ignore the comment about himself.

"So how the hell did they end up together?"

"Ah, the sweet mystery of love…. How should I know? More importantly, why do you care? Hold on a minute…there's more, isn't there?"

"Yeh." House paused and Wilson could tell he was reluctant, maybe even embarrassed, to admit something.

"What?"

"Umm, I was nice."

That sent Wilson into a peal of laughter that he rapidly choked off.

"When was this? Are you sure you're actually Greg House? Why were you nice and to who?"

"To whom, Jimmy, really. I told Cameron to leave them alone. I didn't make one crack about Chase and his puppy dog eyes or that the color of the flowers matched his hair." He regretfully contemplated the lost opportunity. "I even said Foreman was being sweet. I also didn't use my hay fever as an excuse to toss the flowers so I could make Chase cry."

"Why, House, I do believe you're a romantic at heart." He swallowed the last mouthful of his salad before continuing. "Kids are growing up, aren't they?" he said, more kindly.

"Yeah, how did that happen?"

House's pager went off then, he glanced at it briefly before heading out the door, Wilson following him.

"It's your own fault, you know", Wilson commented, as they walked.

"How'd you figure that…?" House became aware of the tune Wilson had started to hum. _"Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match…"_

"Oww, what was that for?" House had jabbed Wilson in the foot with his cane.

"I'm not Jewish. And you can't carry a tune."

"Well, if not you," ("It's not," House interjected), "then you know what they say, God's the best matchmaker – why don't you tell Chase to mark another one up in the win column? He'll love that."

And Wilson pushed a reluctantly smiling House (who knew that he'd been out-maneuvered by one of the few people capable of ever doing so) through the door to the Pathology lab, then went on his own way, smug that he'd gotten the last word with House.


End file.
